


through open doors

by crossbelladonna



Series: tale as old as time; [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4811354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossbelladonna/pseuds/crossbelladonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 4 #kyouhabaweek<br/>Team // <b>Soulmates</b></p><p>There’s only one person who walks out, not even looking up so when he gets out, he bumps unceremoniously against Yahaba and suddenly, there’s a sharp sting between them that they both jerk away in a start, Yahaba with a yelp.<br/>They stare at each other in confusion, both rubbing each other’s shoulders, Yahaba with a wince though the other guy seems to be touching his in wonder. And then there’s the shared expression of mild horror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	through open doors

**Author's Note:**

> au in which one soulmate receives the injuries of the other for an entire year after their meeting.

Yahaba Shigeru is a good person. He does his responsibilities diligently. He’s a law abiding citizen, saluting to Pain Receivers and Givers as he is neither, at least for now anyway. Always greets his rather eccentric boss to work. He’s never late for work, now that he’s thinking of it. Drinks moderately, doesn’t smoke, segregates his trash…

So when he wakes up that day feeling an odd sense of foreboding, he knows it’s going to be a weird, weird day.

  1.       He checks his alarm and finds out to his utter horror that he’s already over thirty minutes past his usual waking time and his alarm had somehow fucked up the night before and so moving and showering so fast it would’ve put the Flash to shame, he nearly trips over his feet multiple times.
  2.       He burns his toast.
  3.       He’s grumpy not having eaten breakfast and he messes up his tie several times more so that he can’t concentrate being that the movers in the room across his—a new occupant Yahaba was informed about a week ago—are seemingly dragging furniture around tactlessly and the screeching noises are very loud Yahaba wants to scream.
  4.       He manages to pull himself together and he’s running out again, barely looking up until he gets to the elevator, still going up his floor and Yahaba taps his foot impatiently.
  5.       The moment the elevator opens is the moment Yahaba’s plans for the next twelve months alters.



 

There’s only one person who walks out, not even looking up so when he gets out, he bumps unceremoniously against Yahaba and suddenly, there’s a sharp sting between them that they both jerk away in a start, Yahaba with a yelp.

They stare at each other in confusion, both rubbing each other’s shoulders, Yahaba with a wince though the other guy seems to be touching his in wonder. And then there’s the shared expression of mild horror.

The other guy is blinking up at Yahaba, scowling slightly as he’s trying to process what’s going on. He’s got a slightly overwhelming haircut—bleached hair? Black stripes?—and Yahaba would’ve judged it even further if it weren’t for the more pressing matter at hand. His eyes are sharp, almost hostile, with eyelashes so dark and eyes so hazel. However compared to Yahaba’s usual formal office wear, this guy’s got a lot of black leather on him and Yahaba can see a hint of a tattoo on his arm.

Yahaba gapes just as the guy realizes what’s happening in the span of a second.

This guy _smirks_. “Oh.”

Yahaba inhales sharply. “ _No._ ”

The guy tilts his head, laid back and even a little puzzled.

Yahaba is beyond flabbergasted and he doesn’t know how to deal with this. He’s rooted on the spot and he’s running late and his shoulder is still slightly throbbing which could mean one thing but he doesn’t want to believe it just yet.

“You—” Yahaba begins, pointing at him.

The guy rubs his shoulder again in wonder.

“Just a question,” he says. “Is your shoulder aching? Sorry about that, I was putting my luggage in the mover’s truck and it fell on me.” He continues, casually.

Yahaba gasps in indignation, already forgetting about his lateness, already kissing his perfect attendance goodbye as he stares at this stranger who may or may not just be his—

Why now.

_Why this._

“Y-You’re my—” Yahaba chokes, almost dropping his bag.

The guy raises his eyebrows and smiles just the tiniest bit.

And then fucking _pinches_ his arm deliberately.

Yahaba immediately feels a sharp pinch on his own arm and a feeling of increasing disgruntlement as he jumps in a start.

“Ow!” Yahaba complains. “Hey!”

_Why me—_

The guy grins. “Just checking. I’m Kyoutani Kentarou.” He doesn’t extend a hand but he nods, almost friendly.

Yahaba points at him accusingly again.

“ _Why are you so calm about this,_ ”

_I am also running very late now…_

Kyoutani is ignoring him apparently because he goes, “Your bag says ‘Yahaba’ on the tag so I’m just going to assume…”

Yahaba clicks his tongue annoyed.

“You’re not listening to me!”

Kyoutani shrugs. “We have a lot of time,”

The elevator dings and they both get distracted momentarily as the elevator opens. Yahaba feels more and more aggravated with every passing second. Kyoutani turns on his heel to go.

“See you around, Yahaba.” He says, waving noncommittally as he’s walking away.

“Hey! Hold on—” Yahaba calls out just as the elevator dings as a warning to close again and remembering his already botched attendance, Yahaba grinds his teeth and goes.

 

Yahaba spends the rest of the day unbelievably cautious, walking around the office so carefully he might as well be afraid of stepping into a land mine each time. He doesn’t really know what to expect—to feel some sort of random bursts of pain each time? Kyoutani looks like the type to take advantage of this being that he looks like he just walked out of a tattoo parlor.

Not that Yahaba had anything to do with tattoo parlors either Kyoutani just has a mean, careless look to his eye.

And they had just met. They are literally strangers to each other and already on an uneven keel and Yahaba doesn’t even want to think of the eight-letter “s” word that Kyoutani is to him.

“Yahaba,”

Yahaba nearly spits out the coffee he just sipped and he lowers his mug hastily.

“Sir!”

His boss, ever charming to most, Oikawa, looks at him worriedly.

“Oh, are you okay?” he asks.

Yahaba’s face feels warmer than seconds ago.

“Yeah, I’m fine sorry. What did you need?”

“I need you to mail me the business letter for our new advertising partners,” Oikawa says with a flourish of hands.

Yahaba nods slowly. Their getting of new advertising partners is a new thing.

“Are they coming by soon?”

Oikawa smiles. “Yes. Hajime has already called their head advertiser. He just moved close by apparently.”

Yahaba nods slowly yet again, clearing his throat, other things troubling him than this business letter responsibility.

“You seem tense,” Oikawa observes, his tone is casual but also very speculative.

“Ah I’m okay,” Yahaba tries. “Today has just been…er, jarring.”

Oikawa looks at him for a moment before he laughs.

“Oh! Oh I think I get it. Sly, sly Yahaba-chan,” Oikawa moves away from him to go, waggling his eyebrows at him. “I’d suggest pulling your collar higher up though, see you later!”

Sly, sly _what?_ Yahaba’s hands flies to his collar the moment it’s mentioned and as soon as Oikawa disappears, Yahaba scrambles for a mirror and sees, with utmost horror, that there’s a bruise there, just below his collarbone.

Yahaba almost yells a swear out loud, muttering a few under his breath and mouthing some more as he pulls his collar ridiculously higher than before.

It wasn’t there before. He didn’t feel anything either. It’s all transferring to him now and _oh god_ they have to talk about this.

Yahaba stands to go to the restroom as if washing his face would also wash his problem away. On the way there, he spots Akaashi being followed around by a very apologetic Bokuto.

“Akaashi, I didn’t mean it, I swear—!”

“My jaw still hurts, Koutarou.”

“I didn’t mean it! I wasn’t looking and then suddenly the cabinet was there!”

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Just three more months and I’m free. No more reckless bruises—”

“ _Akaashi!_ ”

 _Oh my god._ Yahaba thinks for the millionth time. _I still have an entire year._ He feels a headache coming.

 

He should have seen this one coming. Being that Kyoutani belatedly mentioned something about his luggage and a mover’s truck. Being that Yahaba has never seen Kyoutani on his floor before.

So when Yahaba walks up to his door, keys in hand, and he sees Kyoutani hauling a big potted plant and carefully setting it outside the door across Yahaba’s unit, Yahaba stares at him.

Kyoutani straightens when he sees Yahaba standing there stiffly. He’s wearing a blue tank top this time, tattoos all over his upper arms. He’s a good few inches shorter than Yahaba and Yahaba can see it more obvious now.

Kyoutani wipes his hands on his jeans and raises an eyebrow at Yahaba.

“Ah, hello again,” he says. “Care to talk?”

Yahaba’s eyebrows knit as he tries fitting his key to his doorknob.

“I was going to say that.”

Kyoutani nods, smiling just the slightest.

“Right. Good,” he motions to his own open door. “Come in for a bit?”

Yahaba glances at Kyoutani, eyes narrowing and without looking away, he turns his doorknob and takes one step inside his apartment.

“No thanks,” he says.

Kyoutani exhales, shaking his head. “Very distrusting.”

“Hey I just met you.”

“And you’re also my—”

“No thanks.” Yahaba says again and unthinkingly, he steps forward too fast, hand still on the doorknob so that the he knocks his forehead on the door.

“Ow!” Yahaba yelps.

Immediately, Kyoutani has his hands up.

“That’s not my fault.”

Yahaba steps back out and then not breaking eye contact, he pulls down his collar to reveal the bruise there.

Kyoutani’s eyes widen when he sees it and slowly, he starts to grin.

And flat out starts laughing for a straight few seconds and surprisingly, his laughter is actually pretty endearing to Yahaba’s ears though he’s still annoyed with the bruise nevertheless.

“Shut up, please.” Yahaba says.

Kyoutani is still chuckling, waving his hands at Yahaba and leaning on his doorjamb in amusement.

“That was a few days ago. I didn’t think _that_ would show.”

 _Few days ago_ irritates Yahaba even more.

“Well, surprise.” Yahaba says, frowning, making a move to go inside his apartment.

Kyoutani’s laughter disappears at once and he straightens again.

“Hey, hey alright if you’re annoyed I want to say I’m not going to be rash like you’re probably thinking,” Kyoutani says, sounding sincere despite everything that Yahaba looks at him carefully up and down in scrutiny.

Kyoutani does his tiny smile again.

“I’ll be careful this time. Don’t worry, Yahaba.”

 

The next morning, Yahaba finds Kyoutani watering his plant, coffee mug in hand and he smiles at Yahaba as he goes to leave.

Yahaba hurriedly goes, biting back a smile of his own.

 

He keeps his promise at least. Though there are a few unavoidable pinpricks now and again, Yahaba is relatively painless, at least from Kyoutani anyway. Their interactions are turning to be pretty civil, only ever talking when Yahaba leaves for work, those simple good mornings and secret smiles and when Yahaba returns and somehow, Kyoutani is always hanging around outside for it, doing whatever.

One time Yahaba arrives home though, he sees Kyoutani there.

He’s also holding a leash. Said leash is attached to a ferret wiggling around as it battles the leaves of Kyoutani’s plant.

That’s not normal.

Yahaba looks at Kyoutani. And then at the ferret and then—

“It’s a ferret. I know. I bought him.” Kyoutani answers.

Yahaba can’t help the smile on his face as he watches the ferret running around only to be stopped by the length of the leash.

Yahaba opens his door but doesn’t go inside just yet, leaning against the frame to continue to talk.

“I didn’t know you were the type to have pets.” Yahaba says.

“I don’t know much about you in general either,” Kyoutani retorts back.

Yahaba laughs. “That’s right.”

 Kyoutani smiles crookedly.

“Do you want to know his name?”

Yahaba raises in eyebrow. “Okay.”

Kyoutani’s tone sounds as though he’s challenging Yahaba to object, but also nevertheless teasing.

“His name is Arrow.”

 _Arrow._ Oh. _Oh._

Yahaba’s face is suddenly very hot and he bites his lip to stop looking very smug about this.

“Ah. Isn’t that nice?” Yahaba says, conversationally and Kyoutani’s confident smirk is his answer when he finds that Yahaba gets it.

“Oh yes, very appropriate.” Kyoutani chuckles.

Arrow the ferret manages to catch one of the leaves of Kyoutani’s plant and drags it so that it snaps from the branch.

“He’s going to destroy your precious plant,” Yahaba comments.

Kyoutani makes a show of sighing.

“Yeah. He’s already trying to destroy my couch. I haven’t taught him not to bite—hey—” Arrow had trotted towards him and is now clawing at the hem of his pants. And then he opens his mouth to bite.

“Oh no,” Yahaba says, grinning.

“Arrow _no._ ” Kyoutani grumbles, thrusting his hand down to cover Arrow’s snout.

And instead of denim, Arrow clamps his mouth on Kyoutani’s finger.

Yahaba stiffens, feeling it before it comes somehow and he clenches his own hand but cannot stop one of his embarrassing yelps when he feels the sting.

Kyoutani’s straightened up at once, eyes wide, unsure what to do. Yahaba stares at his finger, grimacing involuntarily. It’s turning red though it hadn’t broken through skin and is only slightly stinging now. Kyoutani is still staring at him anxiously, rooted on the spot.

“Are you alright? I’m very sorry—” he rambles immediately the moment Yahaba looks at him.

Yahaba waves a hand flippantly.

“It’s fine, it was an accident and uh—oh my god, is your finger bleeding?”

Kyoutani blinks in confusion, in the middle of pushing Arrow back into his apartment, and he looks at his finger, bleeding only the slightest.

“Oh, it’s—”

Yahaba pales. “It is!”

“It doesn’t hurt I mean, yes it won’t but—”

Yahaba wrings his hands together. “But it’s bleeding!” he opens his own door wide, quickly walking in before pausing. “Hold on, let me get my first aid kit—come in here will you? _God_ this is why I don’t have pets—”

Kyoutani’s face heats up, watching Yahaba’s retreating figure through his open door.

“Relax, it’s really fine.”

“Come in here will you?! You don’t even have a first aid kit do you?!”

Kyoutani scoffs indignantly, closing his door with his other hand.

“ _Excuse me_ ,” he grumbles, affronted.

“KYOUTANI,”

Hearing his name being called is nice, albeit it’s shouted.

“I’m coming, geez.” Kyoutani pauses by Yahaba’s door, feeling slightly as if he’s trespassing before Yahaba appears by the doorway, scowling impatiently and holding a small box, presumably the first aid kit he was talking about.

Kyoutani smirks. “So you just let random people inside your apartment but you won’t enter someone else’s?”

Yahaba’s clearly trying to compose his expression from offended to incensed.

“Has anyone told you you’re this annoying? Well you are,” Yahaba says but it doesn’t wipe Kyoutani’s smirk away. “Now come here will you? Goddamn you’re all talk no wonder you get your fingers bitten by animals…” he continues ranting as he walks to the living room, Kyoutani following him closely all the while looking at Yahaba’s own space with interest.

There are a lot of papers strewn around the living room and it’s a little dim however the art pieces hanging on the walls and the sunflower growing on the windowsill seems to brighten the room up nevertheless.

Yahaba makes Kyoutani sit down on the couch and then still grumbling, starts meticulously bandaging Kyoutani’s finger.

“Huh, so you still bleed even without the pain…” Yahaba says to himself, Kyoutani listening to his observations and trying to calm the heartbeat he’s feeling in his ears as Yahaba’s warm hands carry his gently.

“Hey, does your finger still hurt?” Kyoutani asks him.

Yahaba looks up to him from underneath his eyelashes, smiling.

“Nope.”

Kyoutani rolls his eyes.

“Okay then brave guy.”

“It doesn’t though!”

“So an accidental bite from an untrained ferret was all it took to get you to talk to me for twenty minutes longer than usual huh?” Kyoutani teases weakly, meaning it even at the lightest tone.

Yahaba’s ears are turning pink to Kyoutani’s fascination.

“Maybe if you _don’t_ get bites from untrained animals then I’d be less annoyed with you than usual.” He retorts.

Kyoutani doesn’t say anything, smiling just the slightest. He looks around the room again, to the papers on the floor, to the artfully placed paintings on the wall, to the arrangement of his living room, to the sunflower on his windowsill.

“You’re an interior designer aren’t you?” Kyoutani guesses just as Yahaba finishes the bandaging and he looks at Kyoutani weirdly, raising an eyebrow.

“How’d you know?”

Kyoutani feels a twinge of pride.

“Just a thought. You’d be too busy tending other people’s houses you’d be too busy to tend to yours.” He motions to the papers on the floor with his chin.

Yahaba narrows his eyes, almost disapproving and slowly he stands to pick up the said papers on the floor, still looking at Kyoutani.

“You’re both perceptive _and_ annoying.” He says.

Kyoutani grins smugly.

“What do _you_ do then?” Yahaba asks back gruffly.

Kyoutani tilts his head.

“Something involving the artsy line though I’m not really good with it. I had to move here for that.”

Yahaba takes that in. Had he not moved, they wouldn’t have met. Yahaba would probably not have met his…well, soulmate, or whatever.

“Oh.” Yahaba says. _That’s good._

 

He should’ve seen this one coming. Being that a few days ago after the iconic Arrow-biting-Kyoutani’s-finger episode, Kyoutani had mentioned working for the artsy line. Being that Kyoutani had explicitly said he had moved here for that.

This time, Yahaba is flabbergasted when Oikawa walks in Yahaba’s cubicle and Kyoutani, _Kyoutani_ , is following behind him, talking to Oikawa’s partner (“And husband, do not forget~” Oikawa insisted everyone to tack that in to the thought), Iwaizumi, as they approach.

“Yahaba!” Oikawa greets him with his usual trill and Yahaba can see Kyoutani stiffen the moment he hears it. Yahaba can feel this. He’s as frozen as he is at the moment.

“Yahaba,” Oikawa says again, motioning to Kyoutani who’s now looking at Yahaba somehow as astonished and pleasantly accepting about this.

Yahaba has a very rigid smile on his face that he’s trying to keep up and Kyoutani only looks as though he’s trying not to laugh.

“This is the head of our new advertising partner, Kyoutani Kentarou,” Oikawa introduces with another flutter of his hands and Yahaba nods in pseudo-interest as though he’s never seen him before. When Oikawa faces Kyoutani, Kyoutani’s expression from close-to-laughter changes to a more formal one in _seconds_. Yahaba feels like he’s losing for some reason.

“Kyoutani, this is Yahaba Shigeru, one of my most important…” Oikawa continues off and Yahaba zones it out, focusing on Kyoutani’s small, satisfied smile.

“ _Shigeru._ ” He says, smile teasing as ever and Yahaba thinks _have I ever told him my first name?_ and then _oh he’s going to give me hell._

Kyoutani approaches closer, extending a hand as though they’re just meeting for the first time.

“Pleasure to work with you soon,” Kyoutani says with his shit eating grin. “ _Shigeru._ ”

Fuck. He’s the most annoying—

Yahaba grips Kyoutani’s hand with too much force than needed, smile still straightened for show.

“Same to you, _Kentarou._ ” Yahaba retorts with as much as shit Kyoutani is giving him.

Something passes in Kyoutani’s face when he hears it, almost like surprise but he’s sure as hell not giving a Yahaba a chance to win this so he’s still smiling pleasantly when he lets go of Yahaba’s hand.

Oikawa claps his hands once, delighted.

“Wonderful! Hope we get along well~”

 

The interactions that used to be limited through open doors became broader, more accessible. From open doors, to elevator rides they sometimes share when they go down for work—separately, they agreed on.

To different offices, in such close proximity Yahaba can hear his voice sometimes from where is.

To different chairs as they have shared conference meetings, Kyoutani often trying to be funny whenever Yahaba reports by jabbing his palm with a paper clip and when Yahaba feels the sudden sting, his embarrassing yelp comes out of nowhere _in the middle of his report_ and he can see Kyoutani trying to hold in his laughter in his seat and Yahaba glares at him in secret while the others look at him in confusion.

To a difference in centimeters when they sometimes bump into each other, ironically, as they get coffee in the lounge.

Kyoutani still dresses like he’s just walked out of a tattoo parlor with his jeans and black button up and his tattoo peeking out from his shirt and he’s the same as Yahaba knows him, with his usual tiny smirk with the only addition is that he now carries around a small notepad and really, Yahaba could think,

_This is good._

But sometimes, it’s unavoidable.

Kyoutani gets easily impatient with the group he’s overseeing and when impatient, when annoyed, he’s distracted.

So when he’s walking to the lounge, intent to grab some coffee to give some sense to his gritty nerves somehow, distracted as ever, he doesn’t see the running intern holding a steaming kettle.

“EXCUSE M—”

Kyoutani had just turned his head when the intern collides with him hard and Kyoutani remembers feeling water running down his arm as he staggers back, trying to regain his balance and when he comes to, the intern is gasping, suddenly shouting apologies and taking tissues from a nearby box to help wipe the wetness spreading across Kyoutani’s shirt.

Kyoutani is still dazed, people are looking at him asking if he’s okay but he doesn’t feel anything wrong and—

And he only belatedly remembers that the kettle filled with fucking tea was _steaming._

Kyoutani _stops breathing_ , heart dropping so fast to the vicinity of his ankles and then he’s running, not giving a shit that he looks like a mess and he’s running despite people looking at him worriedly because he doesn’t feel anything he’s _not the one feeling—_

Yahaba’s cubicle is crowded when he arrives, Yahaba’s coworkers lingering by looking startled and worried by whatever the hell they had just heard and Kyoutani pushes past them, already annoyed that they’re not making it fast enough and when he makes it inside, he sees Yahaba slumped on the floor, a coworker of his talking to him softly as Yahaba is arguing back stubbornly.

“Kindaichi, I’m alright, really don’t worry—”

“But you screamed, Yahaba-san we thought something—”

“No, I’m just— _ow—_ ” _Wince._ He’s cradling his left arm close to him.

Kyoutani feels sick to his stomach as he just runs to him unthinkingly.

“ _Shigeru!_ ” He hisses in guilt and anger—he was so careless, distracted—Kyoutani drops down to the floor in front of Yahaba, afraid to touch him. Yahaba’s coworker steps back, murmuring something about getting help before bolting away.

Yahaba looks at Kyoutani, fighting to put a teasing smile on his face despite that he’s grimacing really bad and his arm feels so _fucking_ hot, it’s burning and searing like he’s been scraped with hot metal and boy is it throbbing.

“H-Hey—” Not only is he shaking, his voice is too apparently.

Kyoutani looks pale in his vision and Yahaba probably looks even paler but he’s a little dizzy to care.

And then Kyoutani is rambling.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—I’m _sorry. I’m so sorry, I was distracted, there was someone who bumped me—_ Are you—How are—What can I do? How bad is it?” _Can I touch you?_

 Yahaba blinks multiple times, trying to clear his other more stable senses to catch Kyoutani’s words.

“Kentarou, slow down— _ow fuck—_ ”

Kyoutani’s panic rises even more, his hands uselessly clenching and unclenching, half raised towards Yahaba.

“Shitshitshit _shit_ I’m so sorry—”

Yahaba takes in a long drag of air, slight movement stinging so much but when he looks down to his arm, it’s only a very angry red, no welts, no break of skin, just unforgiving stinging and then he remembers—

Yahaba gasps aloud, pointing to Kyoutani with his other hand.

“You!” Yahaba exclaims and Kyoutani leans back just the slightest, confused and guilty again.

“What?”

Yahaba grabs Kyoutani’s left hand and pulls him close to examine his arm and _oh my god_ it’s even redder than Yahaba’s arm is and from the unhealthy red look to it, it’s going to blister so much _—_

“ _Kentarou your arm,_ ” Yahaba hisses.

Kyoutani scoffs. “It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt…”

“WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT,”

“Because it doesn’t hurt you dumbass—”

Yahaba puts his head in his hand in disbelief.

“Oh my god I would smack you if I could use my other arm.”

“YOU’RE MORE IMPORTANT AT THE MOMENT,”

“ _I’m not about to get my arm amputated because of burns._ ”

“They’re not going to amputate—!”

Someone clears their throat loudly and Kyoutani’s reply is cut short. They both look at the doorway and see Oikawa who waves, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly.

“I don’t want to cut your wild medical guesses short,” he says. “But the ambulance is here so if you could…” Oikawa makes a sweeping gesture towards the door.

Yahaba glances back to Kyoutani, Kyoutani frowning slightly now and even if he can no longer feel his arm from throbbing, somehow the crazier depth in him finds that frown really appealing.

 

They find themselves in the nearest hospital room several hours later, Kyoutani lying on the bed, his arm properly bandaged now while Yahaba sits by the edge beside him, arm in a sling.

“Hey,” Kyoutani calls out to Yahaba, staring blankly.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yahaba twists to face him looking unimpressed.

“Have I ever told you you’re very stupid for saying that?”

“Have I ever told you your arm wouldn’t be in a sling if I had been more focused?”

Yahaba ignores Kyoutani’s reply, continuing his own rhetorical question.

“Unfortunately I don’t have a really fancy remedy for it though.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

Yahaba grins. “I need my remedy.”

“Your what—”

Yahaba leans down to him, good hand going through Kyoutani’s hair to pull his face up towards him and then Yahaba’s kissing him, kiss as stinging as hot as the burns might have felt and _oh_ as Kyoutani uses his good hand to caress Yahaba’s cheek, he thinks he likes this remedy a lot.

Yahaba doesn’t move away completely when he breaks away, breathing slightly heavier than normal but he’s smiling teasingly again.

“Good?” he asks.

“Yeah, again.”

“One thing though.”

“ _What now._ ”

Yahaba chuckles. “You smell like tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> AYYYYEEE i loved writing snarky yahaba
> 
> ok so Arrow the ferret right? the first kanji in Yahaba's name 矢 translates to "Arrow" thats why hes v amused thanks to kira (@simple-symphonia) for telling meee
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/crossbelladonna) | [tumblr](http://crossbelladonna.tumblr.com/)


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